


Storm on the Horizon

by HyperKid



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Artagan knows his cleric, Even Jester Can’t Avoid Her Angst Forever, Hurt/Comfort, Other, This is my emotional support archfey, little of Artagan and Beau too, minor identity crisis, mostly Jester’s POV, post Travelercon musings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:21:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29506149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperKid/pseuds/HyperKid
Summary: With the stress of Travelercon finally over, Jester should be happy. Right? But she’s still sad and unsure and worried.Artagan’s always known how to cheer her up, no matter what’s troubling her. There’s just nothing he can do to make her friends like him when the problems run much deeper.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre & Artagan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	Storm on the Horizon

**Author's Note:**

> HK: I’m on podcast time so I haven’t gotten to the Cobalt Soul/Xeenoth thing yet, but I know the general outline and there are no spoilers here. It was just an extra reason to peek at Beau’s own relationship to her chosen organization.   
> Mollymauk: Honestly, that deserves a lot more attention. Do the Cobalt Soul even fucking pay her?  
> HK: They give her provisions and shit, but never money? But then, she also hasn’t ever been given an actual assignment. She just fucks off and sends random reports.   
> Mollymauk: *snickering* It’s working so far.   
> HK: I hope she gets promoted without ever being given a specific task.   
> Mollymauk: Well she’s never going to go where she’s told. She’s practically allergic.   
> HK: And that’s one of the many things I love about her. All the tact of a wounded rhinoceros.   
> Mollymauk: I’m not going to argue. It was one of my favourite things about her. And being so easy to piss off.   
> HK: She’s done so much growing since then.   
> Mollymauk: I’d still get right under her skin. After a high five for out-bitching Lucien.   
> HK: You must be so fucking proud.   
> Mollymauk: *wiping a fake tear from his eye* You have no idea. And she stole my tattoo. She’s never living it down.   
> HK: She’s a secret softie but the secret is very badly kept. 
> 
> WARNINGS!! Brief references to Jester’s kidnap, and other party members’ various traumas. No specific details 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything but if Matt ever wants to adopt Artagan out I have dibs

Toes buried deep in the sand of Rumblecusp, Jester sighed softly to herself and wrapped her arms around her knees, eyes on the waves. She’d... well. She’d not known what to expect. 

She hadn’t expected the island to be so dangerous. She hadn’t expected to find another “god” already there. She hadn’t expected that Vokodo would touch such a deep, virulent disgust in her heart. 

She hadn’t expected Artagan to tell her he’d planned to give his followers to him. 

It had kind of been the plan? Giving them something to have faith in. Passing them off onto someone else. Until Caduceus had suggested the Moonweaver, they hadn’t really thought of who. 

But not Vokodo. Not something that wanted to steal their memories, and their hearts, and take them away from everyone they’d ever loved. Not a monster. 

She’d barely had to say why she was upset and Artagan had agreed instantly, fully prepared to admit his mistake and change the plan, but... but he was supposed to know better. He was supposed to be in charge, to have the plan, to know what they were going to do. 

It had been scary to see him that night in the jungle. To hear that he didn’t know what he was doing either. To have him ask her for help, which... she’d give anything to help him. But she’d never expected he’d need her help with this. 

And now all the Nein hated him, so much more than before, and they were always poking at her and saying he wanted to hurt her and that he was using her and a monster and that he’d never cared at all! 

Tears stung in the corners of her eyes but she couldn’t unwrap her arms long enough to brush them away. 

She didn’t want to believe that. Couldn’t believe it. He’d never asked her to do anything she didn’t want to do. 

But he’d sent her to Rumblecusp, without even a little bit of warning. If they hadn’t arrived so early... 

Jester squeezed her eyes firmly shut, sand slipping between her toes as she scrunched them tightly. No, she wasn’t going to think about it. 

Even if he’d planned on letting everyone else stay, Artagan had said he’d keep her safe. Wouldn’t let Vokodo have her, or her friends. And she did believe that, even if he hadn’t come himself to fight the other fake god. 

They would have had to try and kill Vokodo after Travelercon, that was all. Maybe some of the others could have helped them. It was all such a mess, tight and tangled in her chest and around her lungs until she couldn’t breathe. 

No one knew better than Jester that Artagan didn’t like planning. He was an improviser, just like her, and sometimes that meant things went wrong. But he rolled with it, and she did too, and she just... 

She wanted to believe in her god again. Wanted to believe he was always there, would always protect her, even if he hadn’t been able to come himself when she was... 

A familiar, cool hand landed gently in her hair. 

“I thought I heard thunder clouds,” Artagan said softly, sinking down to sit beside her on the beach. 

Jester started, her tail whipping through the sand, and scrabbled to sit up, scrubbing at her eyes. 

“What... I... I thought you were busy,” she said weakly, not quite able to look at him. Not sure if he knew what she’d been thinking, or if he even could. And feeling just a little like she’d betrayed him. 

Artagan shrugged elegantly, giving her a wry smile and bracing an elbow on one knee. Everything about him was so open and easy, just like normal. Like nothing had changed. 

“Never too busy for you, Jester, and most certainly not anymore. Thanks to your own efforts of course.” He inclined his head just a little, wrist spinning in a gentle extension of a bow not performed. 

She found herself giggling without meaning to, a smile pushing through tears. 

He could always make her smile. 

Would she lose that too? 

And then Artagan’s expression was somber too, his other hand held out to her but not quite touching. Waiting for her to meet him in the middle. 

“What’s got your head all aclutter, my dear?” 

Chewing on her lip, Jester found her gaze drifting across the sand to where the rest of the Nein bustled about the recovered boats, inspecting everything before the final hand over. They’d all be leaving Rumblecusp soon, though she didn’t know how. 

After a long moment, she slipped her hand into the archfey’s colder one. 

“I just... don’t know what happens now. I mean, I know we talked, and you’re still going to be my friend and teach me stuff, but I just... you’re not a god, Artagan. And you told me you were.” 

A look of guilt flitted across the archfey’s face, lost in such unfamiliar territory, and he raised a finger quickly but Jester cut him off, rolling her eyes. 

“Okay, you didn’t say you weren’t. But you let me think it, and I know we’re friends now, and I know who you are, but I don’t really know who I am anymore. I did a ~lot~ because of who I thought you were.” 

An even more complicated expression crossed his face, something between guilt, and pride, and sadness. Reaching over gently, as if she was an animal he didn’t want to startle, he cupped her cheek. 

“My Jester... I never wanted you to change who you are for me. You’re bright, funny, beautiful, and far more powerful than you know.” His smile widened just a little, letting her in on a secret. “You didn’t join these friends because of me, and look how much you’ve done with them? You’ve changed the world, my dear.” 

Smiling in spite of herself, Jester pushed his hand away and scoffed. 

“Okay, but like... that’s what they wanted to do. I don’t know what I want to do,” she said slowly, trying to work out what she really wanted to say. To put shape to the conflicting mess of feelings inside her. 

Perhaps Artagan could see a little of those too as he took a moment to watch her, head cocked to one side contemplatively. And then that familiar trickster’s smile stole across his face. 

“Did you have fun doing the things you did for me, darling?” He asked, already knowing the answer full well. 

A giggle rose unbidden, the Platinum Dragon’s temple in Zadash immediately springing to mind, and Jester had to nod. Even if it was just a little reluctant. 

“Yeah...” she admitted, leaning over to nudge her shoulder into his. He nudged back, just hard enough to shift her in the sand. 

“And you’re having fun travelling with your friends, helping them with their endeavours?” 

Her smile turning more contemplative herself, Jester found her eyes seeking out the Nein again. That, at least, she was sure of. 

“Yeah. I like travelling with them.” 

Artagan gave her another gentle nudge, cool fingertips skimming featherlight up her arm. 

“Then continue to do so. Try new things, try everything that meets your fancy, and see what makes you happy. I don’t think anyone really knows everything about who they are until they’ve tried it all.” He sounded so sure, years of experience and wisdom, and even if he wasn’t a god she couldn’t help believing him. Trusting his word. 

Especially when it meant a chance to tease him. 

Her tail slunk around the wrist supporting his weight, tugging it sideways through the sand. 

“What, not even you?” She asked with a laugh, leaning aside as he flailed. Just a little more melodramatically than strictly necessary. 

A little more person than god. 

A little more just her friend. 

And he grinned back, sharp teeth shining in the sun. 

“Especially me, my dear Jester. Why, I’m learning more about myself every day that I’m with you.” 

For a moment both flashed back to that night atop the volcano, him chained under the light of the moon. Her clutching desperately before being kicked away. Even the Moonweaver’s surprise at that. 

Suddenly Jester realized she’d never actually asked what the goddess meant. What had changed so fundamentally in the archfey that he’d put her wellbeing above his own. Why that had been enough to earn the Moonweaver’s mercy. 

Another time. 

Today, she huffed a laugh and let herself fall to lean against him, cuddling up to his side. 

“You always know how to make me feel better,” she huffed, giving him her very best pout. “I was getting all righteously mad too.” 

“No you weren’t,” Artagan laughed, resting back on one arm while his other slipped around her. Gods, she’d missed this. Missed the way they’d puppy piled on each other as children, or at least when she was a child. Cuddled up close. 

Being her god had meant being just a little more distant. Hiding his face from her as she grew, drawing back and just... she supposed it was being more dignified, running around creating their mischief. 

Flopping over onto her back, Jester grinned up at Artagan and smushed his cheeks together. 

“Y’know, I think I like you better as just my friend. I don’t have to share you anymore,” she decided happily, stifling a giggle at the look on his face. 

Artagan pursed his lips, making them stick out as she smushed his cheeks, and sighed dramatically. 

“I know, now I just have to share you. Most unfair, how did you stand for it?” 

Jester couldn’t help a laugh, but at the same time her gaze drifted across to where the others were again and her heart sank. She hadn’t really thought about it before and her hand dropped as she sighed, turning her back on the beach and tucked into Artagan. 

“Do you think you guys will ever get along?” She asked plaintively, knowing even as she said it that it wasn’t fair to him; Artagan had never had any trouble with her new friends. 

They just had a lot of issues with him. 

She kind of hated it. 

Artagan hesitated for a moment, his own gaze drifting to the rest of the Mighty Nein for the first time. A wry smile tugged at his lips and he shrugged. 

“Perhaps if your monk friend punches me a few more times it’ll help them get over it?” He offered without a trace of his usual certainty. Then his smile broadened again and he shrugged, waving a hand airily. “It doesn’t really matter, my dear. I couldn’t always be with you anyway, better you enjoy your time with them.” 

Jester huffed and tucked closer, part of her wanting to make all sorts of promises. That she’d talk to them. That she’d get Beau and Fjord to give him a chance. That she could show them he wasn’t a threat. 

But she had this feeling that none of it would matter; they didn’t have a problem with Artagan for anything he’d done. They’d been set against him long before they met. 

And it wasn’t like she could take the whole spectre of Uk’otoa away from Fjord when he was still sending people after them. 

Beau... she wasn’t really sure why Beau hated Artagan. After meeting her dad, Jester just wanted to cuddle the monk up and cover her in love and support and appreciation. To let her really see just how amazing she was. 

And a little part of her curled up and sobbed whenever Beau started on how Artagan must be bad, must be leading her wrong, because she could hear a lost little girl who’d really had that happen. Who’d been betrayed by the people she trusted, by the one she’d loved so much and wanted so badly to please. 

There weren’t many people in the world that Jester hated, but she hated Thoreau Lionett. Even if he ~thought~ he’d done things for the best, thought he was helping... 

She glanced up at Artagan’s face. 

“You could go kill her dad. That might help.” She’d never told him why, never given Beau’s secrets away, but she knew he watched her. Didn’t know if he’d been there when they visited the Lionetts, but honestly, it wasn’t like Artagan had ever needed a reason before. 

His response didn’t tell her anything, just a pensive hum, a smile that turned just a little cruel before he shrugged.

“I think that might have to be her choice, dear. Not ours to make.” 

Which was... looking back, Jester realized she didn’t remember when that had started. When had Artagan become the voice of reason? The voice of caution? 

To be fair, Jester had certainly never been either. They just didn’t used to have one. 

It... 

It might have been since Lord Sharpe. 

Miiiight have been more useful before that particular incident. But then, they’d both done a lot of growing since she’d left home... which hadn’t fucking stopped her from doing the exact same thing again the second she got the chance, because seriously, ~fuck that guy~. He was a massive asshole. 

But... if he hadn’t put a price on her head, so she had to flee home and explore the outside world, she wouldn’t have met Fjord. Wouldn’t have run into Beau, or Caleb and Nott and Molly and Yasha, or Caduceus. 

She’d just have to “thank” him by locking him on a balcony every single chance she got for the rest of her fucking life. The resolve made her giggle, laying back across Artagan’s lap to grin up at him again. 

“If she ever says yes I’ll let you know,” she told him with a cheeky grin, reaching up to tweak his nose. He scrunkled it up at her and playfully nipped at her fingers. 

“I’ll leave a spot in my schedule open,” he promised solemnly before breaking back into a smile, “and of course if ever any of them need a favour, I could be persuaded. Preferably something of a more... mischievous variety.” 

Jester giggled again and twisted just enough to see the rest of the Nein. Nott - no, Veth, would certainly have lots of ideas of the mischievous variety. Yasha and Caleb too. 

They could have so much fun together if they’d just... she sighed softly, her expression turning melancholy again. Turning back to Artagan, she gave him her most unknowingly soft expression. 

“Artie... do you like them?” She asked sadly, not quite able to meet his eyes. He was so willing to give the Nein space, to meet them where they were and make them comfortable, and her other friends just... weren’t. 

Obviously following her train of thought, Artagan gave her a gentle smile, cool fingers tracing down her cheek. 

“Do you love them, darling?” He asked softly. It caught her attention immediately and she nodded, not even having to think about it. 

“Of course!” 

The archfey’s smile broadened and he shook his head, gently tapping the tip of her nose. 

“Then I like them.” 

Like it was that easy. 

Like her opinion was all that mattered. 

Like he trusted her judgement without question. 

Something scrunched painfully in Jester’s heart and she rolled over quickly to hug his legs, burying her face in them to brush away tears before they could form. That cold hand landed softly in her hair again, stroking through the short blue curls. 

“You have to remember, my Jester,” he said quietly, his voice so gentle she knew he saw right through her, “that I have had an extremely long time to get over my bullshit, and your friends haven’t. And while mine certainly wasn’t a small amount, a few of them make my issues look absolutely miniscule.”

Jester managed a weak smile even if he couldn’t see it, fingers dipping down to sketch in the sand. 

“There’s nothing I can do, is there?” She asked sadly, eyes fixed on the gently moving grains. They spilled and slid like silk around her fingers, warm and tiny. “They’ve decided they’re not going to like you so it doesn’t matter what I say.” 

Artagan hesitated a moment, watching the set of her shoulders and back of her neck. This felt... important. Poised on a knife edge not unlike the one he’d negotiated the night before. 

The urgency of the Moonweaver’s threat had made it seem such an easy decision; a quick, simple choice to condemn Jester to his fate or not. Asked in a split second, it had been easy to kick her away. His first impulse, the one he almost always followed.

But would he have to keep doing it forever? Pushing her away a little more, bit by bit, preparing her for the day she’d lose him forever.

Preparing himself for the day he’d lose her.

Because even if she put him first and he kept her close every day of her life, tiefling lives were... fleeting. Everything he was as an archfey was fleeting and ephemeral, almost diametrically opposed to permanence. Change was his lifeblood.

It had never mattered before. 

He’d never really paid enough attention to such short lived creatures. Never had reason to care if it was one or another, never worried much to track the same individual over years.

He’d told her that their time would end one day. Not how it might happen.

He chose his words carefully, almost more a reflex than anything else for one of the fair folk.

“Likely not, dear Jester. It’s not a problem of how they see you, or even anything they know about me. But it’s alright. I don’t care what they think of me. I would never ask you to choose between us, and if they did...” he hesitated a moment, warring again with that selfish nature that always wanted her attention for himself.

Whenever he wanted it, and only when he wanted it. Which wasn’t fair to her.

She turned in his lap at the pause, looking so horrified by the idea that he couldn’t help a calming smile.

“If they ask you to choose, you should choose them,” he told her gently, cupping that soft blue cheek. “They can give you all of their time, and look how much you’ve grown already. Almost as much as in all our years together in just these few months.”

‘Our time will end one day,’ he wanted to tell her again. To tell her to be happy for the time they’d had and let nothing tarnish her memories of that.

He wasn’t quite prepared for her to surge up, tackling him onto the sand and holding on tight.

“They won’t do that,” she said quietly, voice full of certainty so complete he’d almost call it a threat.

Arms coming up around her to hold her in return, Artagan smiled dryly as his gaze wandered across to Fjord and wished he could be as sure. They damn near already had.

But he kept that thought to himself, squeezing until a breathless giggle forced itself from her lips. Not quite prepared for her to squeeze back even harder and make him laugh as well.

“Then what’s all this fussing for?” He teased light as air, drawing back just enough to see her face and grin. The smile he got back wasn’t full of her usual brilliance, nor so carefree as the one he’d known, but it was a proper smile nonetheless.

“I guess I just...” Jester hesitated, her voice trailing off. Then she shook her head, forcing a brighter smile to her face. “We’ll just have to let them get to know you! And then they’ll love you like I do, and we can all travel together sometimes and have fun!”

And for half a heartbeat, Artagan would have torn the plane in half to stop that smile. That false brightness, a mask between her and him. A lie.

He’d lied to her for so many years. He knew he had no right to be upset.

But it hurt just a little to match it, to let her keep that distance if that was what she wanted. It was something he’d promised himself; he didn’t push. Didn’t pry. Shared only what she gave of herself freely and happily, and that had always been everything.

Leaning close, he pressed a kiss to her temple to cover his confusion.

“All of Exandria might crumble to dust,” he told her with a fake solemnity. “Why, with all our powers, combined with our decision making? The gods would have to step in again!”

Her laugh was real now, bright and merry and soothed him like a cat’s purr. As if there’d never been that horrible falseness to begin with.

“We could do so many good things!” She argued through giggles, her heart clearly not in it.

“There wouldn’t be a single inch without a dick,” he teased back and she cackled harder.

“They’d be bigger than an inch!”

“Naturally!”

**

It took a while for either to notice that they’d been spotted, each sending the other into greater fits of laughter describing the devastation and debauchery that would surely follow a proper group union. Beau was about to storm over, thunder in her face, when a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

She turned to glare at Caleb, knocking his hand away.

“What? We’re leaving.”

The wizard raised an eyebrow at her, nodding to the sand.

“We have at least ten more minutes while I draw the teleportation circle. Leave them.” It wasn’t quite an order, not a command. Beau’s eyes narrowed and for a long moment she might have decided to take it as one.

Beauregard Lionett didn’t like orders. Not from anyone.

“Yeah, well, I should still go get her to be ready. We’re going to her mom’s!” She huffed, her glare falling naturally back to Artagan.

Behind her, Caleb sighed softly.

“Because you haven’t missed seeing her laugh like that?” He asked quietly and Beau jerked, whipping back around to glower at him.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean!” She demanded sharply.

Caleb sighed and put a hand on the top of her head, turning her back to the other two. To Jester this time, flat on her back in the sand and giggling helplessly.

“Stop looking at Artagan. Look at Jester.”

For just a moment Beau’s expression softened, then she knocked Caleb’s hand away and scowled at him.

“Yeah, and? Jester’s always happy!” Even saying it, she knew it wasn’t quite true. Jester was a beacon of happiness, sure. Playing jokes, making everyone else laugh.

But something had been weighing on her ever since they found the hag. A weight behind her smile, and even her laughter had begun tailing off in the stressful days before Travelercon. 

It was part of why Beau was so angry with Artagan. He’d put that weight on Jester, used her, betrayed her, lied to her, and Beau was never gonna forgive that. He’d stolen Jester’s easy laughter.

And she was sat with him. Draped all over each other. Laughing until she couldn’t breathe while he gently sprinkled her with sand.

The tiniest kernel of doubt weighed on Beau’s heart.

She’d been supporting Jester. Of course she had. Telling her that Artagan was dangerous, preparing her for the shit he’d try and pull, telling her she’d be protected and they’d all be happy to help kill him if it came to it.

There was no way Jester had become so quiet and subdued because of that... was there?

They’d told Jester she could come and talk to them about it. Hadn’t they? She... thinking back, Beau suddenly wasn’t sure.

Had Jester ever come to any of them about Artagan? Ever started the conversation herself? Hells, she talked about him enough...

Before.

She’d not really said anything about her Traveler since she’d learned who he was. And Beau had been there for her, right? Stood up for her, told Artagan to fuck off, checked in with...

Fjord.

She’d checked in with Fjord. Had anyone checked in with Jester before Yasha mentioned it on the boat more than a week later?

They’d been busy. Fighting the demogorgon, and saving Caduceus’ family, and then that party where that dickhead had been hitting on Yasha and then Jester locked him on another balcony. Jester had been fine.

They’d been respecting her privacy. Letting her come to them. And she never had.

It sounded pretty fucking weak now.

Caleb must have read some of it on her face, at least that moment of indecision. He sighed softly and patted her shoulder.

“Do you remember how nervous you were to introduce us to your Dairon, Beauregard?” He asked softly, turning now so the rest of the Nein wouldn’t see his face.

Not like they’d worried about being overheard; the beach was huge, and half of them were still looting various ships. Beau glared at him anyway, a little wrong footed by the change of subject. She could put two and fucking two together.

“And you all liked them,” she said sharply, folding her arms and hunching her shoulders. Hating how defensive she felt. Trying to pretend she didn’t know why.

Caleb’s shrug indicated he didn’t care one way or another about Dairon.

“Stop telling her you’ll kill him,” he said bluntly, staring her dead in the eyes. Given the way he normally avoided eye contact, it was almost scarily intense.

Doing her best not to show her new unease, Beau huffed and turned away. 

Alright. 

So there was a chance that Jester might kind of, a little bit, have been upset because of them. That didn’t make it not Artagan’s fault for being a shit and lying to her in the first place. If he’d just told her the truth and not been a shady bastard, there’d have been nothing for Jester to be upset about.

She couldn’t imagine what she’d have done if anyone had been so hostile to Dairon... and given how Beau had entered the Cobalt Soul, she had to admit they’d have a reason. Dairon had never been involved in any of the bad stuff, had actually made her feel at home and welcome.

Within the organization which fucking kidnapped her.

It was a little difficult to reconcile even now, as an official expositor. As someone the Soul listened to and respected. She had to believe it had been worth it in the end.

All she’d needed was someone who believed in her. That was all she’d ever fucking wanted.

The thought of Jester going through anything even slightly similar raised her hackles a foot over her head.

What would she have done if someone had threatened Dairon?

She could feel Caleb’s gaze on the back of her neck and just barely managed to stop herself from trying to shrug it off.

“I don’t have to like him,” she grumped finally, turning back to scowl at the wizard. And was slightly surprised to see Caleb smile.

“By all means,” he agreed dryly, “though I’m sure nothing would frighten him more than a sudden show of friendliness.”

When he put it like that.... it was fucking tempting. Fighting down an answering smile, Beau huffed and threw her hands in the air in exaggerated surrender.

“Fine! I’ll go grab the others first and then get Jester. Unless you wanna go disturb the lovebirds,” she grumbled, turning pointedly away from tiefling and archfey. Her gaze fell on Yasha, the white ends of her hair almost blinding in the bright sun, and a slightly soppy smile pulled free.

She’d much rather talk to the barbarian than some shifty douchebag. Seeing where she was looking, Caleb chuckled softly and shook his head.

“I will get Jester. You gather the rest, and then if no one has any objections, we can make for Nicodranas and then... home.”

His last words pulled Beau up short and she hesitated, glancing back over her shoulder at him.

“We’re really gonna do this, huh?” She asked quietly, watching his face for any flicker of expression. His smile had faded, his face suddenly stern and looking much older than his actual age.

“It is our home, Beauregard,” he said quietly, a low conviction just barely covering the fear behind the words, “who else will save it if not us? We cannot leave things as they are.”

True enough. Beau shifted, rolling her shoulders as if the weight she felt settling was something she could physically adjust. If what Caleb had told her of the Cerberus Assembly were even half the truth... she couldn’t believe the Cobalt Soul didn’t know. They wouldn’t let it continue, surely.

Surely.

They wouldn’t let someone just take kids and make them weapons.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides and she turned purposefully towards the ships and the rest of the Nein. If the Soul had fucking known what Trent was, she wasn’t against adding another agency to their list to take down.

She was an expositor. Just like Dairon said... her job was to root out and expose corruption.

**Author's Note:**

> HK: I have... so many other things in the works, my dears. So many spicy things, and dark things, and sexy things... we may not see much Magic Lube Thursday til spring, I get to combine lubes now and lemme tell you I’m loving it. Too many on the go!


End file.
